I Gave You My Music
by Aulophobic Clarinetist
Summary: Paris, 1881. Kurt Hummel is a chorus boy at the Opera Populaire. A familiar face returns as their Patron and Kurt gets his chance at Soprano, all the while being trained by the mysterious Angel of Music.   Glee set in Phantom of the Opera. Eventual Klaine
1. Prologue

**Hi everyone! **

**This will be a Glee fanfic set in the Phantom of the Opera Universe.  
>Glee is owned by Fox and Phantom of the Opera is owned by the wonderful Andrew Lloyd Webber.<strong>

**This first chapter is a prologue, and I tried to be vague and not give too much away...Thank you for reading!**

Paris, 1919. Almost fifty years had passed since the fateful night the grand chandelier crashed in the Opera Populaire. That was the night the Phantom of the Opera disappeared for good, taking with him a beautiful Soprano. Since then the Vicomte de Chagny had lived a lonely and regretful life, cursing the Opera Ghost for taking what he believed was rightfully his.

The Vicomte Dave Karofsky's carriage came to a halt, jarring him from his thoughts, outside the dilapidated Opera Populaire. Today there was an auction being held to clear out the theatre completely so the new Patrons could begin rebuilding. He wanted something, anything he could find, to remind him of the one he lost, the one he had been happy with.

Karofsky's chauffeur Azimio opened the side door of the carriage after unfolding his wheelchair. His nurse, Tina, tucked a blanket around his now useless legs and helped Azimio push him up the ramp into the Opera House.

"Lot 663, Ladies and Gentlemen," an Auctioneer Dave knew as Sam Evans announced as they wheeled through the open doors. "A Poster from this house's production of Hannibal. Do I hear ten francs?"

"Five then?" He continued after a pause. "Thank you sir, do I hear six? Bidding six, seven? Thank you, eight? Bidding eight. Going once, twice, sold. Your number, sir?"

A man towards the back held up his number.

"Thank you sir. Lot 664: a wooden pistol and three human skulls." The Vicomte did not hear the rest of the bidding for that lot, as he looked to his left and recognized Madame Beiste, who had taught the dancing and chorus so many years ago . They made eye contact and held it for a moment too long, only broken when she gave him a nod of greeting.

"Lot 665, Ladies and Gentlemen: a papier mache musical box in the shape of a barrel organ. Attached is a monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals. It was discovered in the vaults of the theatre. Still in working order, showing here." One of Sam's assistants started the music box, a mournful melody drifting out, reminding Dave of the Masquerade Ball that had changed all of their lives.

"May I start the bidding at fifteen francs? Fifteen, thank you. Twenty from you, sir, yes, thank you very much. Madame Beiste, twenty five." Dave touched Tina's arm, letting her know she was to continue bidding for the music box until it was his. "Do I hear thirty? Thirty. Thirty five?" He looked over at Madame Beiste. She smiled sadly and shook her head at Sam. "Thirty once, twice, sold to the Vicomte de Chagny. Thank you, sir."

Sam's assistant brought the box over and Dave ran a shaking finger over it lightly.

_'A collector's piece indeed, every detail exactly as he said' _he thought, retreating into his past for a moment. '_Will you still play when all the rest of us are dead?'_

"Lot 666, then. A Chandelier, in pieces," Sam began, "Some of you may recall the mystery of the Phantom of the Opera. We're told this is the very chandelier from the famous disaster. Our engineers have repaired it, and have wired it some of it for modern electric light. Perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination. Gentlemen!" With a flourish the assistants pulled off the tarp and hoisted the chandelier into the air which lit with a flash.

Many of the bidders were startled, and those who were old enough to remember that dreadful night gasped in remembrance of what used to be. Dave was thrown back into his past when he and his parents had first become the Patrons for the famous Opera House.


	2. Think of Me

**Hello everyone! I've gotten 10 alerts, 4 reviews, and 1 favorite all from the first chapter, I can't believe it, thank you all so much! Y'all are amazing!**

**This is the first real chapter entitled Think of Me.**

**My story will follow the basic progression of Phantom of the Opera, but will vary considerably. I've changed some of the words of the songs and included some of the lyrics from the live versions to fit the plot line better. Also I use the french word 'fauvette' as a nickname for Kurt, I believe it means warbler (I don't speak French, let me know if that's incorrect) because for some of the songs his name really needs two syllables and I thought it would be an appropriate nickname. **

**Glee belongs to Fox and Phantom of the Opera belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. **

**Thanks for reading!**

1881.

The Opera House was bustling with activity as the performers and musicians were rehearsing for their new performance of Hannibal that night. Mercedes Jones, the lead Soprano, was belting her notes loudly above all the other chorus members. Most of the chorus was in partial costume, the set-makers were rushing around in the background putting finishing touches on the props, and the dancers were getting ready backstage for the end of the number.

Dave Karofsky, the Vicomte de Chagny, had recently become the Opera Populaire's new patron with his parents. He drove his carriage up to the stable on the side of the Opera House and stepped out, his fancy cloak swishing behind him, to meet the owners of the Opera.

There had been rumors of Monsieur Schuester's retirement for quite some time, and he greeted Dave with the new managers, Artie Abrahms and Finn Hudson. The four of them walked in to the rehearsal just as the number was finishing up. The conductor gave them an admonishing look as they walked across the stage.

"Monsieur Brad, Madame Beiste, Ladies and Gentlemen, if I could have your attention. As you know, for the past few weeks, there have been rumors of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these are all true," Monsieur Schuester looked around. Mercedes was smiling triumphantly, the dancers were looking curiously at the three other men behind him, and some of the stage hands were exchanging money. "I am pleased to introduce you to the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire: Monsieur Finn Hudson and Monsieur Artie Abrahms."

"They must be rich!" Brittany Pierce, one of the dancers, whispered to Santana Lopez, another dancer, who nodded in return and glanced at them flirtatiously.

There was a light applause as Finn stepped forward to address the cast, "And we are pleased to introduce our new patron, Dave Karofsky, the Vicomte de Chagny."

There was more applause as Dave stepped forward. "My parents and I are pleased to support the arts."

Kurt Hummel gasped as he recognized Dave from over ten years ago. "What is it?" his friend Rachel asked as their new managers were introducing Mercedes to Dave.

"I know him, we were children together. My father would tell us stories. He was the one who started to call me Fauvette." Kurt explained.

"I believe I am keeping you from your rehearsal," Dave said after he was introduced to Noah Puckerman, known to the cast as Puck, the male lead. "I look forward to seeing you all perform tonight."

Kurt froze as he noticed Dave was exiting towards them, but he walked on past, not noticing his old friend. Rachel smiled sympathetically. "Of course he wouldn't notice me, I'm just a dancer. He's a Vicomte."

Brad motioned that they should all reset to start the number again; he never really spoke much. Kurt, Rachel, and the rest of the dancers hurried back to their starting point.

Artie and Finn followed Madame Beiste around the edge of the set while Monsieur Schuester watched the rehearsal from the side curtain. "We take great pride in the excellence of our ballet, Monsieurs," Madame Beiste explained.

"I can see why!" Artie said, impressed, as Mike Chang, the lead male dancer, did a pirouetting leap across the stage.

"Especially that brunette angel," Finn said, pointing.

"My daughter, Rachel." Madame Beiste said proudly.

"And that boy, he's practically glowing, no relation I suppose?" Artie asked.

"Kurt Hummel. Very promising talent. Orphaned at seven, when he came to live in the ballet dormitories." she explained.

The chorus began again, and Mercedes noticed the managers paying extra attention to the dancers. She edged closer to them and sang even louder, angrily looking at them when they didn't fawn over her immediately.

"All they care about is dancing!" she exclaimed loudly once they had finished singing.

"We look forward to hearing you tonight at the gala," Artie said happily.

"I hope the public is as excited by dancers as our new managers," she began, "because I will not be singing!" Mercedes began to rant as Artie and Finn looked at each other nervously.

"What do we do?" they asked Monsieur Schuester.

"Grovel." he responded. "Grovel." he said again, motioning them towards the irate Soprano.

"Bella Diva!" Artie ran to her.

"Goddess of song!" Finn joined in.

"Yes?" She said irritably.

"Monsieur Brad, isn't there a rather beautiful Aria in act three?" Finn looked sideways at the Maestro, who was expressing all of his exasperation silently.

"I cannot sing it, my costume is not ready because someone didn't finish it yet!" she looked pointedly at her assistant, Lauren Zizes, who was in the middle of sewing an extravagant gown.

"Would you please sing it for us now, as a personal favor?" Artie asked suavely.

Mercedes appeared to calm down a bit. "If my managers command." she smiled at them. "Brad!" she yelled at the conductor as he looked up from his stand.

"If my diva commands," he finally spoke.

"Yes. I do." Mercedes strode to the front of the stage in the spotlight as the musicians frantically shuffled through their sheet music to find the Aria.

When it began, a few of the set-makers stuffed cotton in their ears then went about their sweeping and painting.

_Think of me_

_think of me fondly _

_when we've said goodbye_

Artie looked around awkwardly and Finn cringed when Mercedes hit and held out the highest note.

_remember me_

_once in a while_

_please promise me you'll try_

_when you find that once again you long_

_to take your heart back and be free_

Her last note ended in a scream as the backdrop for another scene fell on her. A few stage hands rushed forward to help her, but most of the people began to panic.

"He's here! The Phantom of the Opera!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Signora, are you alright?" Artie asked.

"For goodness sake, what's going on up there!" Finn yelled at the stage hands on the balconies above the stage.

"Please, Monsieur, Don't look at me, I wasn't at my post!" Jeremiah, the one closest yelled back. "Monsieur, there's no one there! Or if there is," he continued mischievously, "well then, he must be a ghost!"

A few of the dancers screamed again. Finn rolled his eyes.

"Signora, these things do happen!" Monsieur Schuester said reassuringly as he went to comfort the Diva.

"These things do happen?" she repeated incredulously. "For the past three years 'these things do happen' and did you stop them from happening? No! And you two," she pointed at Artie and Finn, "You are as bad as him! These things do happen? If you don't find a way to stop these things from happening, this thing" she gestured at herself, "does not happen! Puck! Let's go! Lauren, bring my doggie!"

"Amateurs!" Puck said and followed her off the stage.

"Gentlemen, good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Australia." Monsieur Schuester looked all too excited to be leaving. The two new managers looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do, as Brad silently panicked in the pit.

"What about an understudy?" Artie thought.

"There is no understudy for La Mercedes!" Quinn Fabray, another dancer, responded as if shocked he could ever suggest such a thing.

Brad was now visibly panicking.

"I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost." Madame Beiste announced as she walked over with an envelope sealed with a red skull.

"Oh God in Heaven, you're all obsessed!" Finn sighed. There were rumors of the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera Populaire. His reputation of strangling people with his lasso was a popular scary story around town. Most people assumed he wasn't real, and that all the mishaps were either accidents or people playing jokes.

"He welcomes you to his Opera House," she read.

"_His_ Opera House?" Artie interrupted incredulously.

"And commands that you continue to leave box five open for his use." she moved on, ignoring the managers. "And reminds you that his salary is due."

"His salary?" Finn asked.

"Monsieur Schuester used to give him twenty thousand francs a month."

"Twenty thousand francs?" Finn continued in a disbelieving tone.

"Perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte as your patron." Madam Beiste retorted.

"I had hoped to make that announcement public tonight, when the Vicomte was to join us for the gala. But obviously we shall have to cancel because it seems we have lost our star!" Finn said angrily. "A full house, Artie, we'll have to refund a full house!"

"Kurt Hummel could sing it sir." Madame Beiste interrupted. It became silent. Everyone looked at Kurt as he shifted slightly behind Rachel, uncomfortable. "He is a Countertenor, but can sing all the notes of any Soprano."

"What, a chorus boy?" Artie said, confused.

"It would be unconventional, yes, but let him sing for you, Monsieurs, he has been well taught."

"And what is your teacher's name?" Artie walked a few steps over to Kurt, who was still shyly standing in the back.

"I do not know, sir." Kurt whispered.

Artie shrugged. "From the Aria, then." He pulled Finn off to the side out of the way and Madame Beiste motioned for everyone to get offstage, most of the dancers peeking curiously around the curtains.

Kurt stepped nervously to the front of the stage. Madame Beiste nodded at him, and the music began.

"Artie, this is doing nothing for my nerves." Finn sighed.

"Don't fret, he's very...pretty." Artie couldn't come up with a better word to describe the boy. Kurt really was pretty, he was slender and pale with piercing blue-green eyes and perfect skin. Beautiful would have been a better word for him, once he began to sing.

_Think of me_

_think of me fondly_

_when we've said goodbye_

Kurt's voice started off very soft and a bit shaky. He glanced at Rachel, who smiled encouragingly. He gained a bit more confidence in his voice as he continued.

_Remember me_

_once in a while _

_please promise me you'll try_

_when you find that once again you long_

_to take your heart back and be free_

_if you ever find a moment_

_spare a thought for me_

Kurt was hitting each pitch perfectly and holding all the notes their proper length. Many of the dancers stared, they had never heard their Fauvette sing much, especially never the lead songs.

At the gala, Kurt was dressed in bright white and he was sparkling with a new radiance.

_We never said our love was evergreen_

_or as unchanging as the sea_

_but if you can still remember_

_stop and think of me_

Madame Beiste and Rachel were watching from the nearest curtain. Rachel was so proud of her friend. Her mother patted her shoulder and went off to make sure the rest of the dancers were ready and Rachel was unable to take her eyes from the stage.

_think of all the things we've shared and seen_

_don't think about the things which might have been_

_think of me_

_think of me waking _

_silent and resigned_

_imagine me_

_trying too hard _

_to put you from my mind_

Deep in the basement below the Opera House, a young man stood in the dark, listening to the beautiful voice and smiling to himself. Kurt really had learned so much from him.

_recall those days_

_look back on all those times_

_think of the things we'll never do_

_there will never be a day _

_when I won't think of you_

There was thunderous applause and Dave Karofsky looked down from his box, recognizing Kurt.

_Can it be? _

_Can it be Fauvette?_

"Bravo!" he called out and jogged out of his box wanting to meet Kurt before he left. He hadn't thought of Kurt in almost eleven years.

_What a change_

_you're really not a bit _

_the gawkish boy that once you were_

_he many not remember me_

_but I remember..._

Who would have thought his little friend would be singing lead in the Opera? He never knew Kurt to do anything extraordinarily well, but now that Kurt was obviously loved by the public, Dave became interested.

_Flowers fade_

_The fruits of summer fade_

_they have their seasons so do we_

_but please promise me that sometimes _

_you will think_

Kurt began to sing arpeggios and miniature scales, hitting notes most of the chorus girls would be jealous of, flawlessly finishing off the aria,"_of me!"_

The applause was deafening and many of the audience members threw roses up onto the stage. Kurt curtseyed and backed through the slowly dropping curtains.

Outside in a carriage, Mercedes waited for Lauren to get back from watching the performance. Lauren ran outside and made an apologetic face at the Diva. Mercedes swayed and fainted into Puck's arms.

Backstage was packed with the cast, all celebrating a wonderful opening night. The managers were congratulating everyone they could get to, but they really wanted to find Kurt, whom they hoped would be their lead if Mercedes wouldn't return.

Dave Karofsky fought his way through the crowd, also seeking Kurt. He hoped Kurt would want to see him as much as he suddenly found himself wanting to see Kurt. Though now that he was Vicomte, who wouldn't want to see him?

Rachel stood on a chair near the edge of the crowd, finally able to see over everyone. Kurt was nowhere to be seen. She climbed down and flitted over to an almost deserted hallway on the left, looking in the only other place she imagined Kurt could be.

**Thank you all so much for reading!**


	3. Angel of Music

**Oh my goodness everyone, thank you so much for all of the alerts and favs and reviews! I can't believe how much support I'm getting for this story!**

**I plan on updating this every week, but last week I had way too much going on with school, I'm sorry. But I will really try to stick to a schedule as the next few weeks shouldn't be too bad. **

**There has been some concern about the relationships/plot, and without giving too much away, I promise you THERE WILL BE KLAINE haha I will mostly follow the plot of Phantom of the Opera, but I will vary from it, probably more so towards the end, characterizations will be changed, meanings and lyrics of songs will be altered...but don't worry! The Klaine will happen!**

**And now I present to you the next chapter: Angel of Music**

After the overwhelming applause after the gala, Kurt had sought out the quiet solitude of the Chapel in the lower corners of the Opera House. There were little monuments and pictures lining one wall and a few candles were placed in front of some. Kurt took an unlit candle, touched it to a flame, and set it in the space between his mother and father's tiny pictures.

"_Brava, brava," _Kurt looked up as a quiet, familiar voice echoed throughout the room._ "Bravissima." _It was the voice of his Angel, the voice of his teacher who discovered his abilities to sing and unlocked his passion for music.

"_Fauvette, Fauvette," _Rachel was calling him. He sighed. He should have known better than to wander off by himself after such an event. Everyone would be expecting him to join the parties and festivities backstage.

"_Fauvette,"_ the Angel repeated softly as Rachel stepped through the doorway.

"_Where in the world have you been hiding?_

_Really you were perfect._

_I only wish I knew your secret, _

_who is your great tutor?"_

Kurt looked up at his best friend. He was thankful for her praise, and he wished he could answer her questions, but the answers were things even he didn't know. "Rachel, when your mother brought me here to live, whenever I'd come down here alone to light a candle for my parents," he began to explain, hesitating and restarting sentences, "a voice from above and in my dreams... he was always there, you see..." Rachel looked a bit confused, she had heard some of this story before, but now it seemed Kurt was trying to explain it better. "When my father lay dying, he told me how I'd be protected by an angel, an Angel of Music..."

"Kurt, do you believe," Rachel hesitated ,"do you think the spirit from your father is coaching you?"

"Who else, Rachel, who? He promised." Kurt looked towards the stained glass window, a dreamy look on his face, and began to sing again in explanation, but it was as if Rachel was no longer there.

"_Father once spoke of an Angel,_

_I used to dream he'd appear._

_Now as I sing I can sense him_

_and I know he's here._

_Here in this room he calls me softly,_

_somewhere inside, hiding._

_Somehow I know he's always with me,_

_he the unseen genius."_

Kurt looked around the room almost frantically, like he hoped to see his Angel lurking in the shadows.

Rachel sighed and patted his hand,

"_Kurt ,dear, you must have been dreaming._

_Stories like this can't come true._

_Kurt, please, you're talking in riddles_

_and it's not like you."_

Rachel had heard Kurt mention his Angel a few times, but now he seemed much more sure of it, and he was acting differently. She took his hand and pulled him up from his seated position on the cold stone floor.

"_Angel of music guide and guardian, grant to me your glory," _Kurt sang to apparently no one as the walked across the deserted back of the stage.

"_Who is this Angel, this Angel of Music," _Rachel continued and harmonized quietly with Kurt, confused.

"_Angel of Music, hide no longer_

_Secret and strange Angel,"_

"_He's with me even now," _Kurt sang, retreating into a slight daze.

"_Your hands are cold!" _Rachel sang, concerned, as she grabbed Kurt's hand tightly. He was acting strangely.

"_...all around me," _Kurt continued, looking around without seeing.

"_Your face, Fauvette, it's white!"_ Rachel reached a small hand up to Kurt's cheek, but he didn't seem to notice.

"_It frightens me," _Kurt was not afraid of his Angel, but he was aware that the Angel of Music was always watching, and Kurt only wanted to please him.

"_Don't be frightened." _Rachel comforted and pulled her friend back to the large group of people, hoping her mother would help sort Kurt's feelings out.

Jeremiah looked down at the pair from his post in the catwalks and took another swig of his rum before heading back down the ladder to finish closing up for the night.

Madame Beiste ushered Kurt into his dressing room, where there were quite a bit of flowers set on most of the flat surfaces in the room. He looked around, still overwhelmed by the amount of success and notoriety from just one night, as Madame Beiste shooed off the remaining admirers and shut the doors. She picked up a single rose tied with a black silk ribbon.

"You did very well, my dear. He is pleased with you." She held it out for him, and he took it carefully. He knew she was talking about his Angel. She was one of the few who seemed to believe his Angel was a real person and not just in his dreams.

Back in the crowded hallway, Finn and Artie had finally caught up with Dave.

"Ah, Vicomte!" Artie greeted.

"Vicomte! I think we've made quite a discovery with Mr. Hummel!" Finn said, his hands full of a large vase of flowers.

"Perhaps we could present him to you, dear Vicomte" Artie continued eagerly. They tended to finish each other's thoughts when they got excited.

Dave had been on his way to visit Kurt, but he kept getting pulled aside by people. Annoyed, he had brushed the last few off, but figured he should be a bit more polite to the opera managers. "Gentlemen, if you wouldn't mind, this is one visit I should prefer to make unaccompanied." He turned around and reached for the doorknob to Kurt's dressing room. After a second thought, he faced them again, taking the flowers from Finn's grasp. "Thank you."

"It would appear they've met before!" Finn said with a funny look on his face.

"Yes!" Artie agreed quickly, then the pair of managers went off to enjoy their success with some more of the opera members.

Dave pushed open the doors quietly without knocking and set the flowers on the closest table. Kurt was facing the opposite direction, still in his costume from the Aria, lightly stroking a ribbon on a rose. "Little Lotte let her mind wander," he spoke, quoting one of their riddles from their childhood. Kurt froze from his daze, dropping the rose onto his vanity.

"Little Lotte thought 'Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or shoes?'" Dave strode forward with a smirk on his face as Kurt turned around with a hesitant smile.

"Dave!" he hadn't expected Dave to recognize, let alone remember him. And now he was standing in his dressing room. It had been years since they had seen each other.

"'Or of riddles or frocks,'" the Vicomte continued, stopping by Kurt's chair.

"'Or those paintings in the attic,'" Kurt prompted.

"'Or of chocolates?'" Dave said with a smirk as he knelt to be eye level with Kurt.

"Or father playing the violin," Kurt whispered, a far-away look passing over his face as he ended the little story and recounted their memories.

"As we read to each other, dark stories of the north." Dave grasped his hands, bringing him back to the present.

"No. 'What I love most' Lotte said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed,'" Kurt continued the rhyme and softly sang, "_and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head."_

"_The Angel of Music sings songs in my head," _they finished together.

"You sang like an angel tonight," Dave said after a moment. Kurt weakly smiled at the compliment, unused to the attention. The Dave kneeling before him was more charming than the one he remembered. Maybe he had finally grown up.

Kurt hoped he could find a friend who would believe in his Angel. Rachel seemed unsure, and while Madame Beiste was nice, Kurt was wary to share too much information with her in fear of bothering her. "Father said 'when I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you,'" Kurt explained. Dave looked mildly interested so he went on, "well, Father is dead, Dave, and I have been visited by the Angel of Music."

"Oh, no doubt of it!" Dave said, dismissing what was Kurt's attempt at a serious conversation without a care, "and now, we go to supper!" He stood up quickly.

"No, Dave, the Angel of Music is very strict!" Kurt tried to explain. His teacher was wonderful, really, and though he had never seen him before, he had become reliant on his nightly lessons. Kurt had found out rather unpleasantly, that if he did not follow his Angel's wishes, he would not have lessons for an extended period of time. His Angel made him feel safe, gave him the courage to sing, and Kurt would not miss any opportunity to learn more from the musical genius.

"Well I shan't keep you up late," Dave said with a laugh as he briskly walked to the door.

"Dave, no!" Kurt tried again, gripping the back of his chair as he faced the doorway.

"You must change! I'll order my carriage. 2 minutes, Little Lotte." Dave shut the doors behind him without listening.

"No. Dave, wait!" Kurt called out behind him. This was more like the Dave he remembered. With a sigh, he rose from his chair and began to change out of his costume.

Outside his doors, Madame Beiste stood in the shadows as she saw a lone figure turn the key in the lock and vanish into one of the secret passages of the Opera House.

As Kurt was tying the sash around his dressing gown, the candles blew out. He looked around his room in fear, and quickly stepped to the door in the dark.

"_Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory!" _Kurt paused. It was his Angel. "_Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!"_

His Angel seemed angry at Dave. Kurt could understand, Dave was a bit presumptuous. Desperate to calm him down and not anger him further, Kurt sang back quietly and obediently, the tone of his voice pleading so he could continue his lessons,

"_Angel, I hear you. _

_Speak, I listen. _

_Stay by my side, guide me. _

_Angel, my soul was weak,_

_Forgive me._

_Enter at last, master."_

Kurt almost sighed in relief as his Angel sang back much more gently than before. This was the voice he was used to. The most beautiful voice he had ever heard, holding both immeasurable power and quiet grace.

"_Flattering child you shall know me,_

_see why in shadow I hide._

_Look at your face in the mirror,_

_I am there inside!"_

Kurt whirled around towards his mirror, and next to his reflection was a man. He was slightly shorter than Kurt with dark, curly slicked back hair, and a pure white mask covering half of his face. It was strange, but Kurt couldn't have imagined him any better. He was dressed in all black and there was an unearthly glow around him. Kurt couldn't take his eyes off the man who had given rise to his voice. Finally he could see his Angel.

"_Angel of Music, _

_guide and guardian,_

_grant to me your glory." _Kurt sang in a daze as he walked towards the mirror and the man in the mask.

"_Angel of Music, _

_hide no longer._

_Come to me strange Angel!"_

"_I am your Angel of Music," _the masked Angel sang, his voice taking on a breathy, hypnotic sound. "_Come to me, Angel of Music."_

Kurt found himself walking towards the mirror in a trance, following the Angel's commands.

Dave, who had grown impatient of waiting in his carriage, returned to fetch Kurt only to find that the door was locked. With a shock, he heard another man's voice. "Who's is that voice?" he demanded to know, "Who is that in there?"

Furious, he jiggled the doorknob harder and knocked again.

"_I am your Angel of Music," _he sang again, and it seemed as if the glass in the mirror had vanished. The Angel held out his hand to Kurt, and Kurt stepped forward, his own pale hand slowly rising in response.

"Kurt! Kurt!" Dave called outside, but no one could hear.

"_Come to me, Angel of Music," _the mysterious man sang, and Kurt's hand reached through where his mirror should have been.

As their hands met, new feelings he had never felt washed over Kurt, and the Angel helped him step through his mirror into a candle-lit tunnel.


	4. Music of the Night

**Hey everyone! I am so so sorry it's been forever! I didn't have a working computer/internet for 3 weeks. So now I have my dad's old computer and I'm back! I had to rewrite this chapter and I'm doing this instead of studying for my finals...**

**Some reviewers were concerned that I was just rewriting the movie with different character names, but don't worry, as the story progresses, I will be adding more and more of my own dialogue and plot, since after all it is ending in Klaine :) I just wanted to get everything established first. **

**Thanks for all of the reviews, favorites, and alerts! Also thanks for sticking with me through this! **

Kurt followed his Angel in a daze, not noticing the mirror slide shut behind him, barely noticing his surroundings, only focused on the man leading him. His Angel wasn't just in his head anymore, he was real. He seemed to know his way through strange passageways all around the Opera House. In a moment of thought, Kurt knew that his Angel was the mysterious Phantom of the Opera, and he began to sing.

_In sleep he sang to me_

_in dreams he came_

_that voice which calls to me_

_and speaks my name_

_and do I dream again_

_for now I find_

_the Phantom of the Opera is there_

_inside my mind_

The pair made their way through the tunnels of the Opera Populaire. The candles lining the stone walls seemed to magically move out of their way. Kurt couldn't take his eyes off the Phantom as the man led him by the hand through the hallways. The Phantom would turn around occasionally and always had a look on his face as if he couldn't believe he was bringing Kurt with him. He had a strange happy determination in his voice as he continued their duet.

_sing once again with me _

_our strange duet_

_my power over you _

_grows stronger yet_

_and though you turn from me_

_to glance behind_

_the Phantom of the Opera is there _

_inside your mind_

As they rounded another corner, the Angel took a torch from the wall and helped Kurt down a spiraling stone staircase. They descended further into the depths of the Opera House; Kurt had never known this world existed below them. He looked back for a moment, just trying to comprehend, but found his focus drawn back to his Angel who was still leading him carefully off of the stairs and around another corner.

_those who have seen your face _

_draw back in fear_

_I am the mask you wear_

_it's me they hear_

_your spirit and my voice_

_in one combined _

_the Phantom of the Opera is there_

_inside my mind_

Their voices matched perfectly as they walked down a few more hallways and two slanting staircases that were more like ramps. They went down final tunnel and before them was a glassy lake filled with stones and candles. The Phantom helped Kurt step into a gondola tied to the edge of a wall and slowly began to guide the boat through the narrow passageways lit with dozens of candles.

_in all your fantasies_

_you always knew_

_that man and mystery_

_were both in you _

_and in this labyrinth_

_where night is blind_

_the Phantom of the Opera is there _

_inside my mind_

They reached what appeared to be a dead end, but a drawbridge rose up, followed by a gate as curtains opened behind it. The Angel directed the gondola into the cave as candles ascended from the water. Where the water ended, there was a stone platform covered in candles, tapestries, papers, curtains, and an organ. It was fascinating to Kurt, his eyes couldn't take in everything as much as he would have liked. This was so different from any place he'd ever been, and he loved it.

_he's there the Phantom of the Opera _

"Sing, my Angel of Music," his Phantom coaxed gently as he steadily propelled the boat forward. "Sing, my Angel."

Kurt began to sing without words, his voice climbing higher and higher.

"Sing for me!" His Angel said again and he obeyed, his voice arching beautifully, hitting notes he'd only ever attempted a few times before. He needed to do this for his Angel, his Phantom, his teacher. "Sing, my Angel!"

"Sing for me!" He commanded. Kurt opened his lips and his voice soared to hit a clear pitch higher than he'd ever tried even in his dreams.

The Phantom stopped the gondola and got out, walking up a small set of stairs while taking off his cloak. He reached out and stroked the edge of a sheet of music before turning back around to meet Kurt's awed gaze.

_I have brought you_

_to the seat of sweet music's throne_

_to this kingdom where all _

_must pay homage to music_

"_music,"_ he repeated, staring at Kurt, then quickly turned away and continued singing.

_You have come here_

_for one purpose and one alone_

_since the moment I first heard you sing_

_I have needed you with me to serve me to sing_

_for my music _

_my music_

The Angel repeated himself, letting their eyes meet again, as if he couldn't explain the magnitude of his statements with mere words.

The Phantom broke their intense eye contact suddenly, looking almost nervous. But Kurt continued to stare at him in wonderment. He began to sing softly, almost to himself.

_Nighttime sharpens _

_heightens each sensation_

_darkness stirs_

_and wakes imagination_

_silently the senses_

_abandon their defenses_

Slowly, Kurt's Angel came back down the steps, then reached out a hand to help him out of the gondola. He led Kurt around the platform, and Kurt barely took in any of his surroundings as he was completely focused on the Phantom.

_Slowly, gently_

_night unfurls its splendor_

_grasp it sense it_

_tremulous and tender_

Kurt finally turned to look around, and the Phantom hesitantly brought his hand up to gently turn Kurt's face back towards him. His hand dropped as he led Kurt past little models of the Opera House and the Stage, all featuring Kurt in the lead roles. The Angel looked a bit unsure about Kurt's reaction, but Kurt still wasn't noticing.

_turn your face away_

_from the garish light of day_

_turn your thoughts away _

_from cold unfeeling light_

_and listen to the music of the night_

The Angel released Kurt's hand and went back up the few stairs. His voice was breathtaking. Kurt had never heard another voice have such power and gentle quietness.

_close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams_

_purge your thoughts of the life you knew before_

_close your eyes let your spirit start to soar_

_and you'll live as you've never lived before_

Kurt closed his eyes in obedience as his Phantom's voice soared up to beautiful notes. When he opened them again, the Phantom was beckoning him to come up the stairs.

_Softly, deftly_

_music shall caress you_

_hear it feel it_

_secretly possess you_

_open up your mind_

_let your fantasies unwind_

_in this darkness that you know you cannot fight_

_the darkness of the music of the night_

He took Kurt's hand again and led him over to the organ. He released Kurt's hand and walked behind some of the candelabras, his voice gaining power and Kurt could only stare at the beautiful masked man.

_let your mind start a journey through a strange new world_

_leave all thoughts of the life you knew before_

_close your eyes and let music set you free_

_only then can you belong to me_

The Angel finished his circle around the organ, making his way back to Kurt. Slowly, he took Kurt's hand and turned him around, holding Kurt from behind. Kurt's eyes closed at the sensation. The Phantom gently moved one hand down Kurt's side and covered Kurt's own hand with his other. He hesitantly brought Kurt's hand up to his face and Kurt caressed his cheek. The Phantom's eyes closed for a moment in joy.

_Floating, falling _

_sweet intoxication_

_touch me, trust me_

_savor each sensation_

_let the dream begin _

_let your darker side give in_

_to the power of the music that I write_

_the power of the music of the night_

All at once, Kurt could take in the beauty and the power of the music and the Phantom. Overwhelmed, he fainted.

The Phantom caught him and gently slid an arm under his legs, holding him carefully. He carried Kurt across the platform and down the stairs into a bedroom. The walls were of darker stone with softer candlelight and curtains framing the corners. In the center there was a large round nest-like bed filled with embroidered plush pillows, silken sheets, and soft blankets.

He set Kurt down in the bed and softly tucked his cloak around the sleeping Countertenor. He leaned over him closely and very gently traced the curve of his face. He moved down a few more inches and dropped a ghostly kiss on Kurt's forehead.

_you alone can make my song take flight_

_help me make the music of the night_

His voice barely more than a whisper, he tugged a tassel near the bed and a dark lacy curtain fell around the bed.

Blaine slowly walked to his organ and took off his mask. Kurt, his Angel, his Muse, his Everything was here, with him. He never thought this day would come. He prayed with everything he had that he and Kurt could be together, but someone as beautiful as Kurt deserved better. Could Kurt, his little Fauvette, be the one to see behind the mask, behind his grotesque face to the soul inside?

Could Kurt ever love him? Images of the sheer _trust_ reflecting in Kurt's eyes as he led him to his sanctuary of music swam through his eyes. Blaine sighed and sat on the organ bench. Kurt didn't even know him, he hid everything from the world. Kurt trusted and admired him for his music, but he was just a ghost in the Opera House. Maybe with Kurt he could be saved from his loneliness.

His only problem was Dave Karofsky. Blaine could tell he was dangerous and didn't like how he was acting towards Kurt. Blaine needed Kurt, for his music, his life. Without Kurt, he would be nothing but a monster in a mask. Images of Karofsky with his Kurt plagued his mind again as he grabbed a quill and some lined pages and angrily began to scratch out notes of a new opera.

**Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be up before Christmas :)**


	5. Stranger Than You Dreamt It

**I am so sorry I disappeared for a few months! Thank you for all of the kind reviews, the alerts, and the favorites! I hope everyone is surviving the Glee hiatus.  
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Rachel turned the large skeleton key in her hand and cautiously pushed the previously locked door open. Taking a few steps into Kurt's dark dressing room, she saw hundreds of flowers cascading out of vases placed on every flat surface, but Kurt wasn't there. Frowning, she took a few more steps across the room, trying to figure out where Kurt could have gone. Everyone was looking for him, and it was quite late.

Turning to face the full length mirror, she noticed it was a few inches out of frame. Curiously, she crossed the floor to it, seeing that it was actually a door. There was a single rose on the floor with a black silk ribbon tied around it. She regarded it for a moment, then slid the mirror a few more inches over to fit through.

Rachel lightly stepped through the frame and crept into a dimly lit, dank looking hallway. She had only made it a few feet when a mouse startled her. Letting out a small shriek, she continued forward into the darkness, hoping to find Kurt. All of a sudden she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Whirling around, she let out a sigh of relief. It was only her mother, Madame Beiste. She shook her head and pulled Rachel out of the hallway, through Kurt's room, and back to the ballet dormitories.

OO

Jeremiah growled and lunged playfully at a group of giggling ballet girls. Pulling a blanket around him like a cloak, he rounded on another group of girls. A few of them screamed, but most of them laughed.

"_Like yellow parchment is his skin, _

_a great black hole serves as the nose that never grew." _

He laughed and jumped towards a couple of blonde dancers, one of whom gave him a wary glare, the other staring blankly off in the distance.

"_You must always be on your guard."_ He warned. Most of the girls had stopped laughing by now. A few of them looked legitimately scared. Rachel and Madame Beiste had just arrived, and Rachel walked over to her bed by the window, also looking afraid.

"_or he will catch you with his magical lasso!"_ Jeremiah finished with a grin, throwing a rope around a girl who walked past him, laughing. He growled at her again and pretended to try to kiss her.

Madame Beiste stalked over and pushed them apart, her glare sending the girl away.

"_Those who speak of what they know_

_find too late that prudent silence is wise." _She said. Jeremiah looked at her sheepishly.

"_Jeremiah hold your tongue." _Madame Beiste slapped him across the face. A few of the girls gasped. "_Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"_ She grabbed his noose and tightened it warningly.

OO

Kurt sighed as he blinked awake. With a slightly confused expression, he sat up, realizing he wasn't in his room. Trying to remember what had happened, he pulled a tassel by his head, causing a lacy curtain to rise around him. He was in a comfortable rounded bed sunk into the floor. Next to him was a little music box, gently playing a haunting melody.

He rose slowly, gaining remembrance as he took in his surroundings. He thought he was still in a dream.

"_I remember there was mist..._

_Swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake."_ He took a few steps out of the room, the lake coming into view, just as still and black as he thought he had dreamed.

"_There were candles all around_

_and on the lake there was a boat."_ He walked forward more, turning and seeing his Angel who had led him here, who caused his voice to soar.

"_and in the boat there was a man."_

The Phantom was hunched over a stack of parchment by his organ, carefully composing. Kurt took a few more silent footsteps towards his Angel.

"_who was that shape in the shadows?  
>Whose is the face in the mask?" <em>Kurt asked himself as he stood behind the Phantom. He gently touched the mask and the Phantom's face. He leaned into the touch almost subconsciously, and the mask came off in Kurt's hands.

His Angel jumped up out of his chair, one hand flying up to cover where the mask had been. "No!" he yelled. Kurt had never heard him this angry or loud before. He jumped back in surprise and terror.

The Phantom turned away quickly, forcefully knocking over a candelabra and his sheets of music. He looked like he was about to yell again or do something else destructed, then his persona took on a defeated look as his hand dropped when he was faced with a mirror. The hand shot back up almost instantly and he turned around again.

Kurt only caught a small glimpse of what was hidden by the mask. Something horrible must have happened to his Angel's face. His heart ached for his suffering and he was no longer afraid.

The Phantom stood there, looking at him for a moment, as if trying to judge Kurt's reaction. Kurt could only stare back.

"_Stranger than you dreamt it,_

_can you even dare to look_

_or bear to think of me" _He turned away in self-hatred.

He took a few steps away from Kurt, _"this loathsome gargoyle_

_who burns in hell _

_but secretly yearns for heaven"_

"_Secretly...secretly," _he whispered and repeated, almost hopefully. "_Kurt." _He sang softly. Kurt looked at him sadly. He hadn't meant to take off his mask; he didn't want to cause his Angel any pain.

"_Can fear turn to love?_

_Can you learn to see, _

_to find the man behind the monster?" _The Phantom had turned to look at him again, a curious expression mixing with his sadness.

"_this repulsive carcass_

_who seems a beast_

_but secretly dreams of beauty"_ Kurt's eyes never left his Angel's form, trying to follow his constantly changing emotions.

"_Secretly...secretly..." _he repeated again, just as sad as before.

"Oh, Kurt." he sighed through his tears.

Kurt's heart broke for him. He walked over to where his Angel had sunk to his knees, facing a broken mirror. He gently put his hand on his shoulder and held out the mask.

The Phantom turned and Kurt stared into his beautiful eyes glistening with tears. He took the mask with a quiet thanks.

"What's your name?" Kurt whispered.

His Angel just looked at him for a moment, a bit of hope breaking into his broken expression. "Blaine."

"Blaine," Kurt repeated with a small smile. He was about to say something, but his Angel, _Blaine_, stood up suddenly.

"Come, we must return. Those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you."


End file.
